Redemption
by InsanityAllowance
Summary: Sometimes you need to have everything taken away before you can build something new. Stranded on Earth, stripped of his power and his memory, Loki tries to rediscover who he is and who he wants to be. Loki/OC -Please note that the rating has changed to M as of chapter 7-
1. Awakening

**Author's note:** This story is unashamedly self-indulgent, but since I wrote it, I figured I'd share it. Because I think everyone deserves a shot at redemption and a hug. Especially Loki. :)

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

Grass. There was grass under his cheek; it made his face itch. Should he be lying in the grass? He couldn't remember. Actually, now he tried to think about it, there was a lot he didn't remember. Gaping holes in his mind. A shudder ran through him, bone deep. Something was very, very wrong.

He pushed himself to his elbows, raising his head to peer around and try to take stock of where he was. The grass he was lying in was high and unkempt. His hands, long and pale against the brown earth in front of him, were clean. So, he probably hadn't crawled to his present location, wherever it was. There was a dirt track of some sort a few feet away, and he could hear the sound of approaching voices. Caught somewhere between eagerness and panic, he tried to rise but merely fell back with a groan. He wasn't sure if his intention was to greet them or to hide.

The cheerful sound of the voices turned to startled exclamations and he heard the sound of running feet. This was it. He would meet these people whether he wanted to or not. If they proved hostile he was completely in no condition to defend himself. But why should he be so concerned for his safety? Was it a forgotten memory of danger from the time before he was lying here in the grass? What had happened to him? His breath caught in his throat as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Sir? Are you all right?" It was a soft voice. A woman's voice, full of concern. With effort he turned his head to look up at her. She had dropped to her knees beside him, and something about the gesture pleased him although he couldn't quite put his finger on why. Still, she was a pleasing sight for quite a number of reasons. Fine, delicate features. A thick cable of dark-red hair had swung forward to pool on the ground beside him. How long must it be? he wondered. Bright green eyes regarded him with curiosity and sympathy.

He should reply, he thought. "I..." He hesitated. "I don't know. I don't remember." Not what he had intended to say. He had intended to brush her off, to keep her from prying too deeply into questions that he was disturbed to find he had no answers for. But something about those bright green eyes on his had changed the words before he had a chance to speak them.

It seemed they were good ones, though. Her brow furrowed with concern. "What don't you remember?" Her voice was quiet, as if trying not to startle him. He bit his lip.  
"Anything." The admission cost him, and he dropped his gaze from hers to stare at the puddle of hair instead.

There was a sense of movement nearby and another voice said, "Do you remember your name?" A male voice this one. Strong, but kind. He wasn't used to kindness. He blinked. Where had that thought come from? Why wasn't he?

Disturbed, he turned his attention to the question instead. His name. Did he have a name? He must have. His brow wrinkled as he tried to blunder his way through the foggy landscape of his mind. A word surfaced at last with a welcome surge of familiarity. "Loki," he replied, savouring the feel of the word, the rightness of it. He may not know much, but at least he knew this.

There was a soft sound from the woman beside him. Then he felt soft fingers brush the hair back from his brow and looked up to meet her gaze once more. She was smiling, and it was so infectious that he felt his own lips curve in response. "A pleasure to meet you, Loki," she said. The sound of his name on her tongue was like a balm, soothing away the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. She continued, "I'm Grainne, that's my brother Greg, and his wife Liz." He turned to look where she indicated and cast his eye over the couple standing at the edge of the path. The man was tall and lean, with sandy-brown hair falling in waves to broad shoulders. His wife was almost as tall, with dark hair and a figure he could only think to describe as voluptuous. He smiled at them both before looking back to the young woman beside him. She looked almost frail in comparison, and yet she had been the first one to approach him.

She was looking at the other two now, and the air had an expectant feel to it. He looked between them, understanding that there was some subtle communication going on here but not certain exactly what it was. Eventually Liz nodded and Greg threw up a hand in surrender. "Oh all right," he muttered cryptically. His mouth twisted into a wry grin and he held the hand out. "Come back into town with us, Loki. We'll get you some food, and something to wear, and put you up for the night."

He looked down at himself and realised that whatever he had been wearing had been shredded and even charred in places. He shuddered again. What had happened to him? The hand was still extended, and a glance to the side showed that Grainne was smiling encouragingly at him. Taking a deep breath, he clasped the hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He was a little taller than Greg, he found. And as for Grainne… he looked down as she twisted gracefully to her feet and smiled. Her head barely reached his shoulder. She looked up at the two men beside her and wrinkled her nose. "I'm surrounded by giants!" she exclaimed in mock dismay. He started to laugh along with the rest, but something in the comment caught at him. He chased the thread of memory in vain, unable to pin it down and get a good look at it.

They were watching him, he realised. No longer laughing, but not condemning either. Just watching him hopefully. When he shook his head, three breaths hissed out in disappointment. "You almost had something, didn't you?" Liz asked. It was the first time he'd heard her speak and her voice was low and earthy. He nodded sadly. "Don't fight it," she advised, patting him on the shoulder. "It'll come when it comes. You seem to have the memory of speech and vocabulary working just fine. Your motor skills seem fine too." He realised that he'd absently fallen into step with his three rescuers as they set off down the path and smiled faintly.

"It's just my memory of everything else that's missing," he grumbled. "Who am I? I know my name, but I don't know anything else. What sort of man am I? How did I end up in that… field? And _why _don't I _remember_?" His voice had been rising steadily and this last question came out as a roar, his hands balled into fists as he stalked along. After a short pause, he felt a smaller hand on one of them and looked down as Grainne gently smoothed it open and inserted her own into his grip.

"You are yourself," she said seriously, looking up into his eyes. "Always and only yourself. As Liz said, don't fight it. It will come back eventually. Try different things. Some will feel natural, some won't. You'll find the pieces, bit by bit. And until you do…" She paused and looked at her two companions, who nodded. "…you're welcome to hang with us. If you don't mind travelling, that is."

His mind reeled. Travel with these strangers? These… kind… understanding… supportive… strangers? They had found him at the side of the road, comforted him, offered him aid, and now were offering… what, exactly? Companionship, certainly. A place in their group, which he sensed was very close-knit. Did he want that? Could he handle that? They hadn't flinched from his anger. Grainne had reached out to him despite it and offered compassion and her hand. He looked down at their two hands twined together. Both so pale and slender, but he felt positively robust against her tininess. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a deep breath. "Thank you." His voice sounded weak to his ears, but the small hand in his gave a brief squeeze and Greg clapped him on the shoulder.

"Welcome to the family, mate!"


	2. Considerations and Motivations

**Author's note:** Thanks for the feedback. And minor apologies for my penchant for unusual Gaelic names. :) Grainne is pronounced "Gron-yuh" (probably the closest I can get without looking up the proper phonetics).

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

Grainne flopped onto one of the threadbare couches the hostel provided for guests and sighed. She'd organised a night's lodging for their new friend, which had been made easier by the fact that they were in a room with four bunks and the fourth was empty. Now she had some serious thinking to do.

Loki. She savoured the taste of the name in her mind. Why had she been so sure they should keep him with them? Well, there was the obvious fact that he was lost and alone and had looked so upset about the gaps in his memory. She never could resist reaching out to someone in distress. But it would have been enough to simply guide him back to town and turn him loose. Or turn him over to the police perhaps. Or a hospital. Her mouth twisted in distaste. None of those ideas sat well with her.

There was his name, of course. She'd always been interested in mythology and history, so the name was a familiar one. The Trickster God of the Norse pantheon. Always the most interesting part of any pantheon, she felt. So perhaps there was a certain predisposition on her part to like him. But there was something else, she was sure of it. Something had pulled at her...

"So, you've rescued your lost soul, and Greg's getting him cleaned up." Liz plopped down beside her, breaking her train of thought. She gave the taller woman a wry smile and received a grin in return. "You want to tell me what prompted this? I know you better than to assume it's just because he's hot."

Grainne laughed. "True, that's never been my style. And I've just been trying to figure the answer to that out myself. There's something about him... Something in the eyes, maybe? Not sure. It just felt like the right thing to do." She ran her hands through her hair distractedly. "And I want to know more about him. He intrigues me."

Liz shrugged. "Sounds like he wants to know more about him too. You might have your work cut out for you."

"Ah well. Life's no fun if it's too easy." She thought for a moment, then asked, "What were you saying before about speech memory and motor skills and all that?"

"The way I understand it, there's three types of memory." Liz held up one finger. "There's speech and vocabulary memory... language memory is probably a better way of describing it." She held up a second finger. "There's the memory of learned motor skills: walking, writing, swimming, eating with a knife and fork, all that sort of thing." She held up a third finger. "Lastly, there's memory of events and places and people. Personal memories. It's possible, in fact it's common, for amnesia not to affect all of them, and that last one is the most commonly lost."

"Thank you Doctor Liz."

Liz grinned at her conspiratorially. "Actually, I got that from an episode of Castle," she admitted.

They were still laughing when Greg and Loki returned. The latter was now dressed in borrowed jeans and T-shirt, and he looked... Grainne ran an appraising eye over him. He looked really, really good. Liz was right: he was hot. Her gaze lingered on his face. Shoulder-length dark hair swept back from a high forehead, curling slightly at the tips. A long face with hollow cheeks. Intense blue-green eyes. Deep creases around eyes and mouth that suggested an expressive face and a passionate nature. As she met his eyes, she realised two things.

The first was that he was, in fact, one of the most heart-stoppingly beautiful men she'd ever seen. The second was that, now that he didn't look so haunted, she recognised him. She'd seen his picture in the news not that long ago, when there was all of that mess in New York with the alien invasion. So when he said he was Loki... well, she was pretty sure he was more than just a man with an interesting name. But why was he here?

Hang on, hadn't he disappeared along with his brother and that energy cube after the battle? Since he'd lost, there was a fairly good chance he hadn't gone willingly. Could this be a form of punishment? It certainly made sense from a mythological point of view. That sort of thing happened all the time in the old stories. But in real life? It was the best explanation she could come up with for now, though. It was also something she intended to keep to herself. If Greg and Liz made the connection themselves, well and good, but she wasn't prepared to share her suspicions yet. If nothing else, she'd look like a fool if she turned out to be wrong.

Realising she was staring, she smiled at him and was rewarded with an answering smile. Oh gods, there was a smile that spelled trouble! It was also a smile that pushed all of the right buttons as far as she was concerned, which wasn't good. He needed help, not to be seduced!

As the two men sat on the opposite couch, she said, "You're cool to bunk in with us tonight, Loki. I'll even let you have the choice of top or bottom bunk." Greg and Liz both laughed, and Loki smiled uncertainly. Since Greg was also looking at her a little too knowingly, she hurried on, "And then tomorrow, you can run amok in a clothing store or two before we all head off. See if there are any styles that strike your fancy or bring back anything, that sort of thing."

"You're all being very kind to me," Loki said. His voice was soft, his eyes guarded. "Why?"

Beside him, Greg shrugged. "Because?" Receiving a flat glare in response, he grinned. "No, I'm serious. You could do with some help. We can help, so we will. Besides, we've been on the road for a while now. A change of pace keeps things fresh. Keeps us from getting bored."

"And you're cute," Liz added frankly. "That doesn't hurt either." Loki blinked in surprise and Grainne elbowed her friend in the ribs.

"Not exactly subtle, sis," she muttered. Shaking her head, she was relieved to see that Loki hadn't taken offence but was looking at the two of them with amusement, much like her dear brother. She could almost hear Greg's thoughts: _I think I know what you two have been talking about while we were gone!_ Hoping she wasn't blushing, she asked, "You do want to come along with us, right Loki? I mean, we've all been assuming... but I don't think we actually asked you."

Giving her another one of those melting smiles, Loki replied, "I would like that, yes. Very much, I think. My thanks to all of you." He glanced around the group curiously. "You said you were 'on the road'? What is it that you do?"

"Sing for our supper," Greg replied promptly. "We're musicians, and we're bored, so we decided to take a couple of months and travel around playing in pubs and clubs and at festivals if we're lucky enough to catch any." He hesitated, then asked, "Do you... err... know where we are?" Loki shook his head, that troubled look back in his eyes. His couch-mate patted him on the shoulder. "Don't stress too much. You're in Northern England. Lake District, to be precise. We're looking at going up around the coast of Scotland and then across to Ireland. By then we'll probably be sick of travelling, so it's back to London, where we live."

Loki nodded slowly, but it was obvious from his expression that the place names weren't meaning much to him. She leaned forward and gave the hand resting on his knee a sympathetic squeeze. "It'll all make sense eventually," she assured him. "And until it does, just relax and go with the flow. You're among friends now."


	3. New Arrangements

**Author's note:** Apologies for the delay in updating. I've been sans internet connection for a couple of weeks, which has been horribly, horribly frustrating. On the other hand, I got more writing done, so expect another chapter shortly to make up for my absence. :)

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

Shopping was proving to be entertaining for Loki. Not so much for the choosing of clothes - that part was quite frustrating - but for watching the reactions of his companions. They all offered up suggestions for him to review, and the differences in their styles intrigued him.

Greg tended to favour loose, casual clothing and pointed out that "comfort was way more important than fashion". Liz's suggestions were quite flamboyant and brightly coloured, because "bright colours are cheery and make a statement". Privately, he agreed with that fact but wasn't sure it was a statement he wanted to make. Grainne was inclined towards more subdued clothing with an understated elegance, and when asked for her reasons merely shrugged and said, "I think it would look good on you. Not an altruistic reason in the slightest, I'm afraid." He couldn't help laughing at that.

For himself, he found his preferences seemed to be for dark colours - looking down at the armful of clothing he'd selected they mostly seemed to be black or dark green. He wondered at this. Was it something from the past he didn't remember showing through? Or was it just chance, since he'd also struggled to find fabrics that didn't feel strange and uncomfortable to him? He shook his head with a sigh as he shut himself into the changing room and dumped everything on a chair. He suspected that this was going to be a tedious task.

Fifteen minutes later he had a small selection of shirts and trousers set aside and was looking in confusion at a particularly lurid purple shirt that had been in the middle of the bundle. Surely he hadn't deliberately picked up something so... ugly? Suspicion dawned and he opened the door to look across at the three people sprawled on the nearby couch. Holding up the shirt, he raised one eyebrow. "Really?"

The two girls exchanged sidelong glances and burst out laughing. Loki tried to keep his expression stern, but he could feel the smile tugging at his lips. Greg grinned at him. "From that reaction, I'm guessing not," he said with a chuckle.

Grainne struggled to sit up. "We were just curious, that's all," she explained, her voice catching as she tried to control her giggles.

"What it looked like?"

"No, what you'd do. Feel free to ignore the dreadful thing." Her eyes flicked over him from head to toe and she added, "Also feel free to keep wandering around without _any _of the shirts."

Loki looked down and remembered that he had, in fact, been in the middle of changing when he found the unexpected shirt. Cheeks warming, he hastily shut the door to the sound of renewed laughter and leaned against it. Amusement and embarrassment fought a brief war within him before amusement won. There had been no malice in the laughter, and he had to admit that he wasn't entirely displeased that they'd played a harmless joke on him. Having seen the way they joked and teased each other, it was as if they were saying he was one of them, not just someone tagging along because he had nowhere else to go. It was a good feeling. And, of course, it gave him license to return the favour at some point. He grinned to himself as he put the horrible shirt aside and returned his attention to the pile of clothing.

_~ 0 ~ O ~ 0 ~ O ~ 0 ~ O ~ 0 ~_

They were across the border into Scotland now, apparently. Loki had accepted this information with a silent nod and privately wished he knew if it meant anything to him beyond a simple fact. Still, the trip had been entertaining. His three companions had serenaded him for much of the way, sometimes along with whatever was playing on the radio and sometimes turning the radio off to sing songs of their own devising. They sounded good together and he found himself looking forward to hearing a full performance that night.

At the moment the radio was off and the car was quiet as Grainne spoke on the phone to the hotel they were booked into. "... Yes, I was wondering if it would be possible to get a second single room for tonight? We have a friend traveling with us now. ... Oh, I see." She pulled a face and he realised he was holding his breath.

Greg caught his eye in the rear-view mirror. "Don't worry, mate," he said softly. "If they can't put you up, we'll find you somewhere nearby." Loki smiled gratefully at him, then returned his attention to the one-sided conversation beside him.

"... Well, maybe. Can you hold on one moment, please? I'll check." She lowered the phone and looked at him with a curious hesitation. "He said they don't have any free singles, but they can change my room to a twin share. That's two single beds," she added, seeing the confusion on his face. "So what do you think? Roommates?"

That explained the hesitation, he thought. Sure, he'd already shared a room with them, but that had been a communal room. This was a whole different level of trust. The thought buoyed him and he smiled. "Roommates sounds good," he replied. "And thank you. Again."

Grainne returned the smile and lifted the phone to confirm the change in booking. Settling back in his seat, Loki met Greg's eyes in the mirror once more. They held a silent warning this time, and he nodded slowly in acknowledgement. He obviously wasn't the only one to have recognised the level of trust being extended to him. It wasn't something he intended to abuse, however. They had bought him clothes, food and accommodation, and were giving him companionship and security and understanding. In return, he was contributing... what? Not a lot. Assistance loading and unloading the car, which they'd obviously been managing just fine before he joined them. A new audience for their songs and stories? It hardly seemed a fair trade.

He had, when it came right down to it, nothing. No memories, no resources, nothing. The last thing he was going to do was risk offending the one thing he did have: friends.


	4. The Concept of Family

**Author's note:**As promised, another chapter! My original plan had been to keep alternating POV between Loki and Grainne. In writing, however, I've found that most of the soul-searching type stuff makes a lot more sense when it's from Loki's POV. So since I'm not keen on just throwing in filler chapters to keep the pattern going, it looks like the story will be mostly Loki's POV with maybe the odd vacation into someone else's head.

Also note that I'm playing fairly loosely with time here. There's probably a couple of days between the last chapter and this, and will probably be a couple more days between this and the next. I'm not sure how well that comes across in the writing. :-/

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

"...and then of course, Marcus said he hadn't had anything to do with it either, so Dad decided that since no one was owning up, we'd all have to spend an hour 'thinking very carefully about what we'd done'. In a corner, staring at the wall. Of course, for _some _of us, that wasn't anything! Bloody boring hour!" Liz finished her story with a mock scowl, then joined the other three in laughter.

They were sitting on a pile of rocks at the side of the road, munching sandwiches and passing around a bottle of soft drink. Still unable to recall anything about his past, Loki had asked them to share stories of their families, and Liz had kicked it off with a hysterical tale about the trouble she and her three older brothers got into as children. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, Greg said, "Hands up all those glad to be an only child?" Loki hesitated. Was he an only child? He had a dim sense that there had been... someone... He lost the train of thought as he realised that both Greg and Grainne had raised their hands.

"You? But... you said you were brother and sister?" He looked between them in confusion. They exchanged a sheepish look.

"Well... yes and no," Grainne replied with a small smile. "Sorry, we forget this is likely to throw people. Greg and I aren't technically related. Our parents are best friends, though, and we're born a week apart, so we've known each other since we were babies. When we were about eight, we decided that the universe was obviously wrong and we should have been brother and sister. So we adopted each other. Whoever said you can choose your friends but not your family didn't know what they were talking about."

Loki looked at the pair of them with interest. This certainly seemed like a novel approach, and on some strange level it resonated with him. Curious, he probed further. "So what you're saying is you're related by choice, not by blood?"

Greg coughed as Grainne smothered a giggle. "Funny you should say that," he replied with a chuckle. "You see, what happens when you get a couple of eight-year-olds who read a lot of fantasy and mythology and then decide they ought to be related is a rather nasty little ritual with a pen-knife and a silver cup from the trophy cabinet. Because we felt that, as you say, we should share blood."

"It seemed like a good idea when we were eight," Grainne added straight-faced, although her eyes were twinkling with amusement. "Sadly, his dad didn't agree. It was his trophy we pinched."

The earnestness of her manner was too much, and he collapsed back against his rock with laughter. He was never, ever going to figure these people out, he reflected, but trying to do so was proving a constant source of entertainment.

_~ A few days later ~_

With a muffled yelp, Loki sat bolt upright in bed and threw back the covers. He stared around blindly in the dark room. Where was he? What has he doing here? His heart raced and his skin felt clammy. He dragged in a deep ragged breath.

"Loki?" A soft voice called to him from a few feet away and he swung himself to face it. "Are you all right?" A light appeared to show him his surroundings. A small room with two narrow beds, a lamp on the table between them. He was in one of the beds, and the other was occupied by the woman who had spoken to him. Small, red hair, concerned expression.

Rational thought returned and he slumped forward to cradle his head in his hands. "A dream," he muttered. "I think. Maybe a memory. I don't know." He shuddered with the effort of suppressing a sob. What would she think of him, to be so easily unmanned by a dream?

He heard a soft rustle of fabric and then the mattress dipped under him as arms wrapped around him gently. "Do you remember it?" Grainne asked quietly. This time he couldn't quite choke back the sob that shook him and her arms tightened. "Shhh," she whispered. "It's okay. Whether it was a memory or just a bad dream, it's all going to be okay."

Loki allowed himself to be comforted, although it was several minutes before he could stop his body from shaking. The warm body wrapped around his helped. It was difficult to hold onto the horror when he felt so... cared for. Safe. He smiled into his hands at the idea that the embrace of such a tiny, gentle young woman should grant such a feeling of safety, but somehow it did. Presently he felt strong enough to lower his hands and lift his head to look at her.

"I was falling," he whispered, his eyes haunted. "Falling without end, through dark and cold and emptiness. I screamed just to hear a sound, but even that was weak and hollow in such massive silence. And I knew... I just knew it wasn't going to end." Another shiver went through him and he covered her hand with his own as he added, "Thank you."

Her smile was sad. "You're welcome. Do you want to talk about it more?" He shook his head emphatically. All he wanted was to forget it. The horror of it had been out of all proportion to the simplicity of events, now that he'd framed them into words, but something about the look in the green eyes a few inches from his own reassured him that she knew how deeply it had affected him. She brushed a lock of hair away from his face and placed a soft kiss on his brow, which made him shiver for a completely different reason. "Lie back, Loki. If you like, I'll read to you until you fall asleep again. Keep the dreams at bay."

If he had been in full possession of his wits, he'd probably have been embarrassed. Yet somehow, in the dim light and the quiet of this room, it didn't seem patronising. In fact, he realised that he desperately wanted that gentle touch and soft voice to stay with him while he drifted back to sleep. He gave her a shaky smile. "I'd like that. Thank you. You are, once again, my saviour." He lifted her hand to brush his lips across it lightly and was rewarded with a blushing laugh.

"Lie down, silver-tongue," she scolded him fondly as she turned away to retrieve the flat screen she stored her reading material on. He smothered a smile as he lay back and pulled the covers up around himself. It was reassuring, somehow, to know that he could discomfort her as easily as she did him. He quite enjoyed the gentle teasing games that had developed between them - she was easy to flirt with and her responses always gave him a quiet thrill. One day, perhaps... He squashed the thought ruthlessly. He needed to know himself first. To know who he was and where he was going. But one day...

She settled down beside him again and leaned back against the bedhead. Her free hand stroked his hair as she began to read softly and he sighed. Letting his eyes drift shut, he allowed the quiet murmur of her voice and the whisper of her nails against his scalp carry him away.


	5. Father's Day

**Author's note: **Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers. You all rock. *hugs* Here, have another chapter before the weekend. :)

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

Loki stood at the rail of the ferry beside Grainne and watched the coastline slip by. Greg and Liz had retreated inside out of the cold, but he found it invigorating and had wanted to stay. He felt ridiculously glad that his tiny companion had elected to stay with him despite the bright colour the wind had whipped into her cheeks and the way it tossed and tangled her hair around her. Glancing down, he noticed her knuckles were white around the rail and with a smug smile had his chance to ask the question he felt he'd heard all too often lately: "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him with a strained laugh. "You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?" she asked. He gave her his most innocent smile, earning him another laugh. She shook her head. "I'm not a fan of boats. Never have been. Was a huge disappointment to my father, since he adored them."

He raised one eyebrow as he realised this was the first time she'd spoken about her father. Hesitantly he said, "You've never mentioned him before. When you and Greg speak about your childhood, it's always been about your mother." He let the sentence trail off into an implied question, suddenly wary. Some of that wariness was of probing further than he was welcome and being pushed away, he knew, but some of it was deeper and more inexplicable. He was starting to recognise that feeling as a topic that was skirting close to something that ought to be important to him.

Grainne sighed and shrugged. "Most of the stories involving Dad aren't as happy," she admitted. "We had a... complicated relationship. It was fine when I was little and thought the sun shone out of his every orifice." Her laughter this time was a flat, bleak sound. "It was only when I got old enough to start developing opinions that didn't match his that it all fell apart. He and Mum went their separate ways when I was a baby, so I used to go and spend weekends with him regularly. It got to the point where a good weekend was one where we didn't end up screaming at each other."

Shifting his hand to cover hers on the rail, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "What sort of things did you fight about?" he asked.

"My imperfections, mostly," she replied with a bitter twist of her lips. "What it boiled down to, and what I eventually had to come to terms with, was that I was never going to be able to make him proud of me or gain his full love and acceptance unless I became someone else entirely. Someone I didn't want to be. And it was made harder by the fact that I did truly love him, and I wanted nothing more than for him to just love and accept who I was instead of constantly finding fault and pointing out who I wasn't. And because I loved him, I couldn't bring myself to just tell him to take a running jump, no matter how much I often wanted to."

Silent tears were running down her cheeks and he felt his throat constrict. Remembering how reassuring he had found her embrace after a nightmare, he turned and gathered her against him. She slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest. While part of him was very definitely aware of her closeness, another part was turned inward. Her words had moved him, not just in sympathy for her, but for himself as well. A succession of disjointed images flashed through his mind: a small boy - no, two small boys - walking along an open walkway with a tall, imposing man; himself, older, always off to one side watching, slightly outside everything; another young man, surrounded by cheers and laughter and people seeking his attention; himself again, confronting the older man with a wealth of pain and anguish. He couldn't make out faces clearly, nor hear words, but the emotions hit him like a tonne of bricks.

"And I couldn't become that person either, because it was already someone else." He spoke the words softly, intending them just for himself, but the figure in his arms stilled.

"You had a sibling." He barely caught the soft exclamation that was almost a question, but not quite.

He nodded, despite the fact that she couldn't see him. "A... brother. Father's favourite." He wished the images that had come to him had been clear enough to see faces. He thought his brother had been fair, but nothing more. Did they look alike, apart from colouring? And what did his father look like?

Grainne looked up at him, her eyes red but full of wonder and sympathy. "I can't even imagine what that must have been like," she murmured, lifting one slim hand to lay along the curve of his jaw. "Competing against an impossible ideal is bad enough, but to be compared to another real person and found wanting..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Ah, Loki, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," he replied, surprised. Her hand was warm against his cheek and he struggled to resist the urge to turn his head and nuzzle her palm. "You couldn't have known."

"But I'm still sorry there was such pain in your life." She smiled up at him, a beautiful, sad smile that made his throat close up again. "You deserve better."

His arms tightened around her convulsively. "I think I've found it," he whispered. His mind was reeling, both from the partial memory and the sudden upswell of emotion. "You've been so good to me. All of you, but you especially."

A sudden flurry of activity as the ferry reached the dock broke the spell of the moment, and they drew back from each other a little sheepishly. Greg and Liz emerged onto the deck and hailed them, then frowned as they drew near enough to see Grainne's tear-stained face. Greg scowled at him, but before he could speak in his defence, Grainne shook her head. "We got onto talking about Dad."

Greg's expression cleared. "Ah," was all he said as he closed the remaining distance and gave her a fierce hug. Liz stepped up to her other side and wrapped them both in an embrace. Loki shifted awkwardly, feeling he had no place there, until Liz grinned at him and held out one arm.

"Come on, since this has turned into a group hug!" With a self-conscious laugh, he allowed himself to be drawn into the knot. Three arms immediately wrapped around him.

When they finally broke apart, he added diffidently, "I also remembered that I have a brother. And... a father..." He paused, uncertain how to express the complicated emotions the fragmented memory had brought up.

Grainne came to his rescue, saying, "Who sounds depressingly like mine."

Greg and Liz both winced and Liz darted forward to give him another brief hug. "Poor bugger. This doesn't mean you're going to be splitting just yet, does it, though?" Greg asked in concern.

Loki shook his head. "I remember they exist, that's all. Not who they are, or where they are, or anything at all useful. So if you'll have me..."

Before he could finish the sentence, Grainne and Liz had each slipped an arm through one of his and started towing him towards the stairs down to the car deck. He grinned. Whatever demons might lie in his past, here and now he felt a warm glow of acceptance.


	6. A Sense of Self

**Author's note:**So I was debating another chapter in between this and the previous one, but couldn't come up with a theme that was working for me. So on with the story I guess. :D Oh, and thank you again to my amazing reviewers. You guys make my day!

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

Loki was spending the afternoon alone, which was a rarity. But Greg and Liz had taken themselves off for the day for some 'couple time', as Grainne put it, and she had decided to spend a lazy afternoon curled up in the guesthouse common-room with a book. He'd felt too restless for that, so had taken himself off for a walk and a think. The former was proving easier than the latter.

He was enjoying his new 'family'. They had accepted the odd gaps in his memory with more grace than he had, and had been very good about filling him in on concepts and references that he couldn't grasp. They included him in their music and their jokes and their casual physical contact and all up generally made him feel included. Wanted. So why did he feel so uncomfortable?

Partly, he knew, it was his ongoing frustration at not knowing. No matter how understanding and accepting they were, the fact remained that he wasn't whole. It wasn't just about whether he knew common references or remembered reading certain books or seeing certain movies, it was about knowing who he was. Knowing the little things that everyone took for granted, like what his favourite foods were or what games he'd played as a boy. Knowing the bigger things, like what his dreams and ambitions had been before they were lost to him.

Perhaps it was about time to accept that he wasn't going to regain what he was and craft something new instead. Decide on some new dreams and goals. Decide who he wanted to be.

So what had he learned about himself over these past couple of weeks? He was strong and agile and enjoyed the physical pursuits he had tried such as horse-riding and dancing. He was also intelligent, picking up knowledge and skills quickly and readily once he was introduced to them. He also enjoyed puzzles and riddles and the games of strategy that the group often played of an evening if they weren't performing. He could, apparently, sing; he smiled as he remembered how long the two girls had spent trying to convince him to join one of their performances. He'd held out on that one. He loved watching the trio and listening to them, but he didn't think it was for him. So that was another thing he'd learned: he didn't want to be a singer.

Inexorably, his thoughts turned to the other thing he'd learned: he had come to care very, very deeply for Grainne. Perhaps even to love her? He wasn't sure on this last point, wasn't sure how you could tell that you were in love. But his mood lifted whenever he was with her, no matter how down he had been feeling, and there were certainly specific things about her that he loved. He loved to touch her, both the innocent, casual touches that were so common and natural amongst the group and the comforting, intimate embraces when he was especially troubled. He loved talking with her, loved the way their conversations jumped from topic to topic without pause and could go on for hours if they weren't interrupted. And when she sang or played her violin, he felt like he could just sit and listen to her forever.

He thought she might feel a similar regard for him, too. They flirted almost constantly these days with a teasing banter that nonetheless held a slight tension. A heightened awareness. He swallowed hard, remembering the almost speculating look he caught her giving him occasionally. Was she thinking these same sort of things? He really hoped so.

Abruptly, he decided on a plan. He'd return to the guesthouse and talk to her. They should have privacy for the rest of the afternoon and evening - Greg and Liz had planned to go to dinner together and return late. Plenty of time to explore the question of hopefully mutual feelings. If he was really lucky, perhaps even time to explore a few other things as well. He grinned to himself as he turned to retrace his steps.

The thought of what he would do if she didn't share his feelings intruded. Could he still stay here? He didn't think so. The awkwardness it would create between them would be too much to bear. But he wasn't sure how much longer he could endure being with her without knowing, so he would have to take the chance. If it didn't work out... well, he'd endured loss before, he knew that, even if the precise nature of the loss was still hazy. He would survive. Somehow.

But it wouldn't come to that, he assured himself. He was sure she was interested in him, and why shouldn't she be? After all, he was a handsome, intelligent man. He was possessed of a sly sense of humour that he knew she appreciated. He was Loki. He was…

A god.

The thought crashed through his mind, driving him to his knees with its intensity. Memories assaulted him. The Allfather, Odin, looking down on him with anger and disappointment, vowing to cast him out without memory or power. Earlier than that, fighting with Thor and that band of misfits as he tried to lead his army to war against this world. Earlier still, the blackness of the void and his eventual rescue from it. Power crackled across his body as he threw back his head with a roar at the onslaught.

When the flood of memory died down to a trickle, he found himself on his knees in the middle of a green meadow. A small smile tugged at his lips as he recognised the similarity to an earlier awakening. This time, though, he knew who he was. What he was. The knowledge flowed through him and around him and crystallised into hard certainty. With it came a troubling thought. A thought to do with some of those speculating looks he'd been considering just a moment ago.

"She knew."


	7. Confrontation

**Author's note: **NOTE THE RATING CHANGE. Just so you don't get any nasty surprises if you missed it in the metadata box at the top. :)

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

Loki stalked back to the guesthouse in a fury. Had she been laughing at him all this time? Had they all been laughing at him? A small part of him was glad that he didn't meet anyone on the way, as he wasn't sure his self-control was up to dealing with incidental annoyances when he was so focussed on this one confrontation he needed to have.

No one in the common-room. Anger rising, he turned instead towards the room that they shared. Also empty, but there was light under the door to the tiny bathroom. Before he could move towards it, it opened and Grainne stepped out in a cloud of steam. She was rubbing at her hair with a towel, but otherwise was entirely – he'd even say spectacularly – naked. His breath caught, his anger deflected for a moment. The sound caught her attention and she looked up with a yelp of surprise.

"I thought you'd gone out," she said, wrapping the towel tightly around her as her face flamed scarlet.

"I came back."

"So I see." Her voice held that touch of wry humour that he had so enjoyed, and it made it hard to find the thread of his rage. As he struggled, she frowned. "What's wrong?" She took a step towards him, then froze as he met her gaze.

"I remember," he grated out. "I remember who I am." The air shimmered and rippled around him as he drew on the power that had been missing for so long. When it stilled, he was dressed in leather and armour and long green cloak, the golden horned helmet on his head. The familiar ensemble felt good and he drew himself to his full height. "I _am_Loki."

She nodded. "God of Magic and Mischief." He studied her through narrowed eyes. She was smiling, her own eyes shining.

Two swift strides brought him to her and he wrapped his hand firmly around her throat. "And _you_are not surprised, are you?"

His grip wasn't tight enough to choke. Not yet, anyway. He felt her swallow against his hand as she shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I'm just happy for you."

He shook her. "How long have you known?"

"Not known for sure." Her voice was roughened by the pressure against her throat, and he found it interesting that she didn't struggle against him. Her eyes were open and candid as she qualified, "But I suspected. Your picture... in the news... Your recent exploits in New York were quite the talking point. And Loki… The name is not unknown to me."

"And yet you never said anything."

Despite the hand around her throat, Grainne managed a smile and a raised eyebrow. "Would you have believed me?"

"That's…" He hesitated. Would he have believed her? It would have sounded so fantastic before the knowledge of who he truly was flooded back into his mind. And he had to admit, now that the first flush of anger was spent, that it was incredibly difficult to stay angry with her. He could feel her pulse beating rapidly against his fingers. He finished with "…a fair point." He let go and took a step back. "So knowing, or at least suspecting, who I was, you still welcomed me into your life and your journey and your... your family. Why? Because I was _tamed_?" He spat the last word bitterly as he paced to the door and back in a surfeit of restless energy.

She lowered the hand that had risen to massage her throat and shook her head. "Because I sensed that you weren't," she replied with a sad smile. "There was something about you. An... intensity, I guess. I'd never met anyone like you before. I figured even if you weren't a god, you were certainly exceptional." She shrugged. "I like exceptional."

He paused. Now this was more like it! The last of his anger fled as he stifled a smile and probed, "And yet no matter how exceptional, for all your kindness and affection you've always kept a certain... distance." He glanced meaningfully at the room's two beds.

Grainne blushed and dropped her gaze, shifting uncomfortably. "It didn't seem right. It would have felt like I was taking advantage of you while you didn't know yourself."

Loki grinned. In less time than it took to draw a breath he had shifted himself to stand just behind her, making her jump. He brushed the damp hair away from her throat and let his fingers drift softly down her neck and shoulder, feeling her shiver. "And now?" he purred, bending to speak directly into her ear.

"You'd lower yourself so far as to consort with a mere mortal?" Her voice was light, but he could hear the thread of uncertainty under it.

It was a good question, he supposed, but this was one he knew the answer to. He wanted her so fiercely he burned with it. He ran both hands down her shoulders, exulting in the way she quivered beneath his touch. "When the mortal is you, yes. Do you want me?"

"Yes." She half-turned in his embrace and the look in her eyes took his breath away. His remaining self-control snapped and he turned her roughly towards him as his mouth descended on hers. She met him eagerly, her arms lifting to twine around his neck, her tongue darting out to duel with his as he plundered her mouth mercilessly. The cheek-guards of his helmet were in the way, preventing him from getting as close to her as he wanted to. He reached up blindly and tore it from his head, dropping it to the floor and being rewarded with the feel of her fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing in his experience to compare to this. Absolutely nothing!

When they finally pulled apart, both slightly dazed, Grainne ran her hand down his chest and shot him a wicked smile. "I love the new look, Loki. It's madly sexy. But right now it's also very much in the way."

He threw back his head with a bark of laughter. Would she ever cease surprising him? He hoped not. With an answering grin, he drew his magic around him once more. When the shimmer cleared, he stood before her completely naked. "Is this more to your liking?"

Her eyes raked him from head to toe and back, radiating approval. "Oh, very much so," she breathed.

"Good." His hand closed on the towel and tore it away. Now that he was in a better frame of mind, well... it was still a wonderful view. He allowed himself a few moments to admire it.

She laughed and struck an ostentatious pose. "And?" she asked, green eyes shining with amusement.

"And I do hope you didn't have plans for this afternoon, because I don't intend to let you leave for some time." He grabbed her around the waist and threw them both sideways onto the nearest of the beds, where they landed in a breathless tangle of limbs. She wriggled against him, which nearly sent him through the roof, so he rolled to pin her beneath him. Not that this turned out to be any less arousing, he discovered. "You. Are. Mine" He punctuated each word with a fierce kiss.

"All yours." She barely breathed the words before drawing his head down for another lingering kiss. Then she hooked one leg behind his and gave him a smile that was equal parts joy and smouldering sensuality. "And you're mine."

"Yes." There was a small part of his mind that was surprised he didn't take exception to this - a mortal thinking to lay claim to him! Yet somehow, this was different. Different, and extremely welcome. It wasn't about ownership or power, it was about acceptance and love. Yes, he was sure of it now. He loved this delicate, caring, whimsical young woman with a passion that was going to set him on fire if he didn't do something about it soon.

Since he couldn't think of a single reason not to, he did. Her soft moan of pleasure was muffled by a deep kiss as he buried himself inside her. He forced his body to stillness, wanting to savour the sensation for a few moments, until she shifted under him. Her eyes were dilated and her face flushed, but her voice held a hint of laughter as she informed him, "If you don't start moving, I'm going to bite you."

"That sounds promising," he replied with a devilish smile, making her laugh. Now _that _was an interesting sensation! He hissed in surprise and closed his eyes briefly, before deciding that he didn't want to wait any longer, even for the sake of teasing her. Teasing them both, he amended wryly. He began to move above her, slowly at first but gaining speed as pure primal need took over. Her nails dug into his shoulders, fingers flexing convulsively. His lips locked with hers as he felt her shudder and ripple beneath him and he followed her over the edge into magnificent release.

* * *

**Author's Note 2:** So, this is sort of a request. I have some vague ideas for a sequel to this story, which will involve the rest of the Avengers. I have some strong ideas for certain scenes, but I'm having a really hard time coming up with a suitably comicbook-epic threat to bring them together. It's why I generally write people stories, not action. And so, my request:

Give me suggestions for a big bad and the sort of havoc he/she/it/they might wreak on the world. Probably something magical or mystical in nature would work best, since I want the Avengers to need Loki's help, and that's the one area where they don't really have much in the way of knowledge or experience. You can either leave them in the reviews, or send me a PM.

If I use your suggestion, you get to name something in the new story when I write it. :D (In addition to, presumably, naming the big bad, that is.)


	8. Musings on Identity

**Author's note:**A big thank-you to all those who have offered suggestions for the sequel. You guys are awesome. :D And just to lay any fears to rest, there is still more of this story to come. I'm just thinking ahead. At the very least, there's two more chapters after this one. Depending on whether or not I manage to wrap things up to my satisfaction by then, there may be a third. Then, hopefully, a new adventure. :)

That said, I hope this chapter doesn't ramble as much as I fear it does (or as much as I have in this author's note!).

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

The afternoon had passed alternating between lovemaking and talking. Well, mostly Loki had been the one talking, relating to Grainne the things he now remembered. And, to his surprise, he'd been brutally honest about it all. He'd told her a bit about his childhood and his family. He'd told her about his discovery of his true origins. He'd told her about his attempt to seize the throne of Asgard from Thor, and his attempt to finally make Odin see his worth by killing the king of the Frost Giants despite knowing his true parentage. He'd told her about his final despair and his willingness to just let it all go, both figuratively and literally as he let himself drop into the void. He'd told her about his rescue and the deal he had struck and the war he'd brought to this world, filling in the bits she hadn't already learned from the mortal news services.

At some point they'd ended up on the floor between the two beds, although he couldn't quite remember when or how. Grainne sat straddling his lap with a thoughtful look on her face. Finally she said, "So if I understand the naming convention correctly... Loki... Laufeyson?"

He made a face. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of," he muttered. "Being a monster."

"You're not a monster, Loki," she replied softly. "Yes, you've done some things that were pretty monstrous - I saw footage of the mess your friends made of Manhattan." He had the grace to drop his gaze at that. It had all made perfect sense to him at the time, but now he found himself questioning the wisdom of it. And it was, after all, her world he'd been trying to conquer... She raised his chin so that he was looking at her again and shook her head. "But there's a significant difference between that and being a monster. It's a matter of choice. Do you know what I mean?"

Nodding thoughtfully, he said, "I think I do, and I'm also aware that it's probably more kindness than I deserve from any of this realm's inhabitants." She smiled and shrugged. "It doesn't bring me any closer to figuring out that part of who I am, though. In Asgard a great stock is placed in who your father is."

"Loki Odinson, then," she countered. "Has such a martial culture as Asgard's no concept of adoption? What usually happens to orphans? Is your true father the one who... well... fathered you or the one who raised you and taught you? Only one of them had any real bearing on the man you became, and here's a hint: it wasn't the Frost Giant."

Loki frowned, but made himself consider the question. "I don't know," he said at last. "When I discovered what I was, I was hurt. Betrayed. But my immediate reaction was to try and prove to Odin that I was worthy of him. Of being his son. It was only when that failed, when even that wasn't enough..." He shook his head.

"You felt you had to reject him to keep from being hurt again?" she asked softly. He said nothing, but rested his forehead on her shoulder and wouldn't meet her eyes. "Ah, Loki. It's a hard road you've chosen."

"I'm not sure what I think now, though," he admitted. "Having spent so much time with you and Greg... It makes me wonder if I need to expand my definition of family. But still, there's a lifetime of lies there. How do you move past that?" He lifted his head now to look at her, desperately hoping for an answer. For all the frustrations of his memory loss, at least it hadn't caused him this much pain, he reflected with a touch of bitterness.

Grainne chewed on her lower lip as she thought about this, which made him want to kiss her again. So he did. She kissed him back with a smile, then drew his head forward to press another soft kiss on his brow. "There isn't an easy answer to that, I'm afraid. I guess... it's a matter of balance. Of looking at your two options and their consequences, and deciding which one means more to you. It's like... do you remember that day on the ferry, when I told you about my Dad?"

He nodded. "Yes." It had been one of the few days he'd remembered anything remotely useful, he recalled. It had also been something of a turning point in their relationship, the closest they had come to openly acknowledging their feelings for each other until today. His lips curved in a smile at the thought.

Apparently recognising where his thoughts had gone, Grainne blushed. It amused him that they could sit there, both naked and in about as intimate a position as it was possible to be, and he could still make her blush. He rather liked it, now that he thought about it. Laughing at his widening grin, she shook her head. "Not that bit. I mean the bit where I explained the rather troubled relationship he and I had."

He nodded again, sobering.

"Well, that was a similar sort of choice for me. When I realised just how much he was making my life hell, I knew it could go two ways: either I could walk away and just accept that he would never be a part of my life again, or I could find a way to deal with it and keep some sort of bond between us, no matter how fraught. I chose the latter, even though it was a very hard and painful way to go."

"Why?" His brow furrowed as he considered this. "It's obvious he never appreciated you."

"True, but he was my father. There _were _good memories, particularly in the early years. He used to let me help him in his workshop when he was building things; he used to take me to the park, and the zoo, and the movies; we used to spend afternoons playing board games or computer games and having a lot of fun. I thought about just walking away from all that history, all that love, and I couldn't do it. No matter how hard it was to stay, I knew I couldn't live with myself if I left. Even if he never appreciated it."

A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, and Loki gently wiped it away with his thumb. "So how did you live with staying?" he asked softly.

Grainne gave him a sad smile. "I learned to set boundaries. I learned to stand up for myself when I thought he was being an arse. I learned to call his bluff when he'd make grand melodramatic statements designed to make me 'prove' to him that I loved him according to his narrow definition of the word." She wrinkled her nose. "We still fought, and he still tried to pick a lot more fights than I was willing to give him, but by choosing to ignore it at least we got to spend some time together without fighting. It was a start."

He gathered her tightly against him. "You speak about him in past tense, I notice, but you've never suggested there was a final break in your relationship. Is he...?" She nodded against his shoulder and sighed. They sat quietly for a while, each busy with their own thoughts. Loki considered her words in the light of his own experiences. He _had _tried walking away from the family he'd grown up with and severing those ties completely. It had led him into darkness and despair, and from there onto a path of wholesale destruction. He hadn't even cared much what got destroyed. And what had it brought him? Nothing but defeat and the memory of Odin's one eye looking at him once again with disappointment.

Yet what was the alternative? To return to them and pretend that none of it had ever happened? That he forgave the lies and the hurt? He thought of the angry words he had flung at Thor and shuddered. Even if he wanted to go back, would they have him?

Raising her head, Grainne pressed a kiss against the curve of his jaw. "It's not something you have to unravel right this moment, you know," she whispered. "You've only just come back to yourself. Let it settle, and see how you feel about it once you've had a chance to get used to being you again."

He smiled down at her. "Whatever I decide, I'm not giving you up," he told her seriously. "You're mine now."

"Always." She flashed him a brilliant smile before their lips met in a deep kiss. He felt the need for her rising once more and, with a soft growl, rolled them both over. At some point, he thought distractedly, they really ought to make it back onto the bed. Then he felt her nails score lines down his back and stopped thinking altogether.


	9. Revelations

**Author's note:**So I have one more chapter planned, which will involve Thor. But I've been thinking, and I wonder if there needs to be another after that to wrap things up with Odin (and maybe Frigga)? What do people think?

Also, sorry for the delay in getting this up. It's been another difficult chapter to write, with just so many things I wanted to say and no idea at all how to say them all and make it coherent! Hope it makes sense.

**Disclaimer:** Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.

* * *

They were late to breakfast the next morning, partly due to having had little actual sleep and partly because there had been certain... distractions to getting dressed. Loki was in a great mood as they joined Greg and Liz at the table. He knew he still had a lot of things to work through before he was entirely comfortable with himself, but for now he was content in the knowledge that he knew who he was and that he wasn't going to have to deal with them alone. There was, of course, the niggling worry that the other two thirds of his new 'family' wouldn't take the news as well as Grainne had (she'd told him she hadn't shared her suspicions about his true identity), but she seemed to think it would be fine and he desperately wanted to trust her judgement.

"How was your day out?" Grainne asked them. "Did you find that beach you were after?"

Liz nodded enthusiastically. "We did, and we should all swing by on the way through today. You'll love it, it's gorgeous! Shame it's too cold to swim this time of year. But it was nice to walk along for a bit, until the wind came up and it got gritty."

"Caught a good band after dinner, though," Greg added with a grin. "Considered calling you guys, but... well, sorry." He gave Liz's had a squeeze, not looking sorry in the slightest.

Loki waved away the apology with a laugh. "I suspect we'd have declined anyway. Shall we tell you about _our _day?" He chuckled again as the couple opposite sat up straighter and looked at him expectantly, then glanced sideways to Grainne. "Where should I start?" he asked.

She grinned back at him. "Start with the 'you' bit. That came first."

"True. So. The 'me' bit. I remember. All of it. Who I am, what I am, how I ended up in that field without memory, all of it." Greg and Liz were both beaming at him by this time. He hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to explain everything, then shrugged. "Perhaps a new introduction is the best way to do this. I am Loki... Odinson, of Asgard." He hesitated only slightly over the patronymic, and from the corner of his eye saw Grainne incline her head with a smile in acknowledgement.

Greg and Liz, on the other hand, exchanged startled looks before Greg said hesitantly, "No offence, mate, but are you sure you didn't just... I don't know... hit your head?"

Loki's grin was pure mischief as he glanced around to make sure they were still alone in the room, then created a multitude of images of himself filling every remaining chair. His grin broadened as the surprised couple looked around with mouths agape and Grainne clapped her hands in delight.

"Dear god!" Liz gasped, eyes wide as she looked between them.

Grainne shot Loki an amused glance before replying, "Yep, that pretty much covers it." There was a pause and then all four of them started laughing. It cleared the tension from the air and Liz jumped up to dart around the table and give him a hug.

"So happy for you, Loki!" she exclaimed. "I know how much it's been bothering you not to remember!" Loki returned the hug before banishing the illusions. He really wasn't in the mood to try and explain them to the landlady or any other guests who might happen by.

Greg reached over the table to clasp his hand. "Yes, excellent - if somewhat unexpected - news," he said with a grin. Then it faded. "Also slightly confusing news, though. If I remember correctly, your most recent visit to Earth... uh... didn't end so well..." He trailed off uncertainly, clearly unsure how to voice his thoughts in an inoffensive manner.

With a rueful smile, Loki nodded. "I know. And that's why this happened. The Allfather, in his wisdom," - his lips twisted bitterly at the word - "decreed that I should be sent here with neither memory nor power until I had learned my lesson." His expression darkened. "I'm still not entirely certain how I feel about that."

Grainne leaned over and slipped an arm around his shoulders. "Well, I know how I feel about it. On the one hand, it was cruel and sadistic and smacks more of petty revenge than justice. On the other hand, if he hadn't done it, we wouldn't have met you. So if I ever meet him, I'm not going to know whether to punch him or hug him."

When the laughter this pronouncement incited died down, Loki said, "If you decide to punch him, just make sure I'm around to see it." Grainne chuckled and nodded.

Liz was looking thoughtful. "If your memories have come back, and your magic, then whatever... effect?... he put on you must have recognised that you'd learned something important." Loki looked at her with surprise and respect. In the turmoil of regaining his memories and the events that had followed, he hadn't given thought to what had broken the enchantment. "So what were you doing when your memories came back?"

He propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand while he thought about it. "I'd been thinking about what progress I'd made in discovering who I'd been. Or hadn't made, as the case might be. I'd decided that maybe it was time to stop trying, and just decide who I wanted to be from here on. To decide what I wanted to with my life without worrying about not knowing what I used to want." He shot Grainne a quick smile, then looked back to Greg and Liz. "I'd decided that a large part of that centred around your sister."

"Now that bit _wasn't_entirely unexpected," Greg replied with a grin. "We've been watching you two dance around the topic for ages!" He looked over at Grainne, who was blushing but smiling. "I take it this isn't a surprising revelation to you?" he asked.

Grainne shook her head, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh no. We've already discussed it. At length." She slipped her hand into Loki's, her smile widening as he raised it to plant a soft kiss on the knuckles.

Liz snorted and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "So that's why you were late this morning!" They both gave her looks brimming with false innocence before all three started laughing.

Greg, on the other hand, was looking at Loki consideringly. At last he said, "I've come to like you a lot over these past few weeks, Loki, so I think we can speak plainly between ourselves." Loki schooled his expression to blankness. He didn't want to be at odds with Greg over this, knowing how much it would hurt his beloved, but he also wasn't prepared to just walk away. He met Greg's gaze with more calmness than he was feeling as the younger man said seriously, "You make her happy, I'm behind you one hundred per cent of the way. You hurt her, then god or not I'm going to dent your head with an axe."

Loki sat in surprised silence for a moment. Before his recent sojourn, a comment like that from a mortal would have drawn a response that was both swift and impressive. Now, though... He knew how deeply Greg and Grainne cared for each other, and how protective they were of each other's welfare. He could well imagine Greg giving a similar speech to any of his sister's suitors. The 'god or not' part suggested that Greg knew exactly how much chance he would have in such an encounter, but that he was gamely making the point anyway was both amusing and touching.

"I think you and I are going to get along just fine... brother," he replied with a smile. Greg grinned and leaned across to clap him on the shoulder.

Grainne shook her head with an exasperated huff as she watched the two of them. "I don't know whether to be flattered at the excess of chivalry, or offended at the suggestion that I can't wield my own damn axe!" she muttered.

Liz chuckled, then cocked her head at Loki. "So I take it this means you're staying with us?" she asked.

Loki nodded. "I certainly hope to. I've no wish to return to Asgard at present, and I'm enjoying the company." He cast a sidelong glance at Grainne and grinned. "Some of it immensely. Asgard can wait."


End file.
